Kiss Me Like You Kiss Your Horn
by Teddy is the Bear Assassin
Summary: Matthew Williams, a gifted student, goes to Samwell University with his brother Alfred. He had figured joining the band there (that his lame dad directs) wouldn't be terrible but getting strung into 24 hour game competitions and orchestra vs band prank wars makes him reevaluate his decision. Maybe a crazy albino can convince him that joining was the best thing he's ever done.
1. The Audition

Impeccably dressed in a suit and tie, a musician sat center stage, illuminated by the lights above, and glancing nervously at the judges. He nervously, fiddled with the rotors and strings on the valves of his French horn, waiting to start and get this audition over with. He looked over at Alfred who gave him an encouraging smile.

Matthew Williams was a graduating senior this year, and as someone with no money and no one to rely on for money, besides his older brother Alfred, who could barely scrape together barely enough on minimum wage to send home a monthly check, he knew that in high school he'd have to find something he was good at and stick with it. Since he started band in fifth grade, he figured it wouldn't hurt to master his instrument and continue playing hockey to get a scholarship at Samwell University, the long time rivals of University of Washington. He had already been accepted for a hockey scholarship. Even though Matthew wasn't as largely built as the average hockey player, his speed, grace, and sheer determination had ensured him a scholarship at Samwell. Even though his father Francis could've gotten him a free scholarship there, as he was the band director, Matthew never wanted anything from him, even getting angered when Francis had offered to give him free tuition, and a free slot in the band.

Also Alfred kept bugging him to join the band stating that "the other French Horns aren't as badass as my little bro."

At this point, he was auditioning for the college's symphony orchestra. Even if he had hated band in high school, he loved playing his instrument, with its warm, round tone, so he found himself at the university's performing arts center ready to (hopefully) blow away the judges.

"Hello," said the meaner looking judge. Matthew felt like her gray eyes were piercing his skin as if she was already deciding whether or not he would make it in.

He swallowed thickly.

"State your name, school, piece and accompanist."

Matthew spoke loudly so the judges would hear. "Hi, I'm Matthew Williams and I am from Auburn Mountainview High School. Today I am playing Nocturno Op. 7 and my accompanist is Alfred F. Jones."

"Alright start when you're ready." All of the judges got comfortable, pens ready to write and eyes trained on him.

Normally having all eyes on him would make Matthew uncomfortable. He usually went unnoticed, having a knack at being invisible, that is, until he picked up his instrument. Everyone noticed him when he played his instrument.

 _Alright Williams, this is your way to prove to Francis that you don't need his free hand outs._

Matthew tucked his long, curly, golden hair behind his ears and nervously adjusted his tie. He closed his eyes for a moment to gather his nerves.

 _Remember that key change. Don't forget to nail that partial change, D to F is easy, and keep up with the tempo…._

He opened his eyes, determination making his eyes a darker shade than the normal light violet color. The senior turned to the stand holding his music, and he took a breath as he brought the mouthpiece to his lips.

 _1..2..3..4..1..2..Ready..Go_

The musician breathed through his instrument, warming the metal, creating a tone that flowed smoothly through a crescendo up to a booming forte and flowed down into a piano. He treated the horn like an extension of his soul.

He needed every phrase with care and his legato tounging was as smooth as silk.

As he went further into the piece he began to truly feel the music, and started rocking slowly with it, his body moving forward with a volume increase and moving back as he quieted again. He moved more as the piece transitioned into its more intense lines, marcatos and forte pianos replacing the legato and the soft dynamic change, filling the air with a strong, pure tone.

Alfred played his piano part with accuracy and impeccable timing, his ten second mini solo giving Matthew the introduction for his next set of phrases. The song began to slow and soften gradually as Matthews cheeks began to ache, the intensity fading.

The final phrase ended and his note was accentuated with a soft piano gliss.

 _It's over thank god,_ Matthew thought nervously as he placed his French horn gently in his lap. He looked over to Alfred who gave him two thumbs and flashed him a smile.

"Alright then. We have the performance recorded and we jot down anything we had to say about it on own clipboards," said the woman judge in a monotone voice. "We'll tell you if you got in soon enough. You may go now, thank you." The judges began getting up and leaving

"Oh umm," started Matthew, "How will I know if I made it? Are you guys gonna send an email, or call, or ….?"

The judges didn't seem to hear him and they continued until they all left.

"Wait I- ugh darn it." Matthew knew that she wouldn't notice him after he finished performing so he just let it go.

Alfred can up behind him. "Don't worry Mattie, he said, "They're going to send you a letter in the mail probably within a couple of weeks since auditions are due in a couple of weeks. That's how they did it with me."

"Oh Maple, Al how do you think I did? I might've played a couple of wrong notes, the key changes had me kinda messed up and I didn't shape my lines as well as I did during practice yesterday and I don't know i made smart decisions in my expression of the piece and what of my marcatos in measure 72 weren't goodenough _imean-_ "

"Dude shut up. Do even know who that lady was?"

"No."

"Okay well, she was in the wind ensemble on French horn when I was a freshman and her name is Julia Cartwright. She is one of the best fucking French horn players to ever walk the halls of this school. I kept checking her face while you played and she-"

"Oh shit, she hated it didn't she," Matthew said anxiously, "God dammit I should've went with the Tchaikovsky or-"

Alfred covered Matthew's mouth with his hand. "Dude shut up you're worse than I am sometimes with the interrupting EW DID YOU LICK MY HAND? YOU'RE GETTING IT NOW YOU PUNK."

The two scuffled for a little bit until Alfred yelled, "Okay seriously I AM TRYING TO TELL YOU SOMETHING."

Matthew giggled. " Alright, alright you big baby, I'm not trying to see you pout all day so hurry up and finish that though," he teased.

"Well, what I was about to say, before you rudely interrupted me," Alfred teasingly glared at him, " She looked crazy impressed man. I mean like, 'My title as the best French Horn player could definitely get threatened.' Not that she looked mad about it though she seemed to really enjoy the shit you put out today."

Alfred patted Matthew on the head. "Good horn players are rare dude, so anyone would've been impressed."

Alfred continued talking about how excited he was about his lil bro joining the symphony as they walked off stage. Matthew was only half listening, but then he noticed a shockingly white head of hair in the audience. Focusing on the owner of that hair, he could see a face staring at him full on. Matthew blushed, suddenly self conscious; no one besides Alfred ever really noticed him, so having someone look at him like that was strange.

Before the brother left, he looked back and the man was _Huh? How did he go so fast?_

"...You're gonna love our band so much Mattie, it's huge and Papa, as shitty as a dad he is is a crazy good band director, and you'll finally have a section, except now you'll have to fight for solos, but-"

Matthew put a finger to his older brother's lips. " Shhhh. You're rambling Al." Matthew stopped in his tracks and sighed. "I have to make it through senior year before worrying about the audition. Not to mention that I still have to worry about hockey; that's where my scholarship is coming from anyways."

"Okay true but you did INSANELY GOOD ANYWAYS." Alfred grabbed his younger brother by the shoulders and shook him with every syllable.

Before Matthew began walking again, Alfred stopped him and hesitantly he asked, " You know Papa could have gotten you into the band without auditioning. In fact, he could've gotten you free tuition for all four years." Alfred continued quickly so Matthew couldn't cut him off.

"I don't get why you're busting your ass for a 4.0, hockey, band, and the billion extracurriculars you don't need when you chose to go to Samwell, which you could have gotten in for free."

Irritated, Matthew began to storm off, his mood quickly souring.

"Mattie wait! C'mon you can't get mad about this I was just cur-"

"Don't," He replied, shortly.

Okay yeah, Matthew got it. It made no sense that he overworked himself to get into a college his sort-of estranged father worked at and then reject said estranged father's offer to get him in for free.

 _Alfred doesn't get it. Samwell had always been my first choice for college anyways. It's not my fault stupid Francis works there. Ugh it's just like my brother to be awesome one minute and a douche the next._ the younger sibling thought angrily.

" Dude wait! I take it back it doesn't matter okay, we don't have to talk about it okay?"

Matthew stopped but didn't turn around.

"Obviously I pissed you off, so to make up for making a good day kinda lame, let me treat you to lunch."

Matthew turned around, pretending to think hard about it to make his brother squirm a little. He wasn't trying to make a big deal out of this so he was ready to let this go anyways.

"C'mon dude, there's this really nice burger place. Indulge me a little, pretty please?" Alfred began to approach him, batting his baby blue eyes.

Matthew teasingly glared at him. "I swear if you say McDonald's, I'll punch you."

Alfred grabbed his younger sibling's wrist and began dragging him to the enterance. "Mattie this isn't high school. With age, comes the maturing of taste buds you dummy." He turned back to look at Matthew, and with a mischievous grin he declared, "We're going to Dick's!"

Sniggering, Matthew replied, saying, "Of course you are since you love to eat dick."

"Yeah yeah shut up you twerp and let's get going!" Alfred starting sprinting, dragging his younger brother to the car, the both of them lightly scuffling and laughing.

* * *

 **Hi guys! So this is my first fanfic ever. This is going to be a College Band AU! and I'm going to try to fit as many characters and ships here as possible. This fic is gonna be like 90% Prucan , 5% FACE family angst (though not too much) and like 5% all other ships. Other ships will be hinted at and just in the background.**

 **So Samwell University doesn't exist, but because I love Seattle so much I decided to just make it up. I know some of you are gonna be like why didn't you just use UW and the reason is that they actually don't have that great of a band. They're okay though (sorry all my peeps who go to UW). Samwell is going to be located near Gas Works parks, and like UW, they're going to have out of this world art programs and science programs. In fact I'm thinking of making Samwell and UW rivals in everything (and maybe I'll make their rival band at UW the 2p!s but we'll see).**

 **Also as a band kid myself, I will try to keep the band stuff as accurate as possible but that means I'm going to use a ton of music terminology. Who knows, maybe I'll convince some of you to join a band wherever you are :)**

 **I'll try updating like once every two weeks at least but please don't be alarmed if i take longer to update.**

 **Okay also, I made a tumblr blog for this story because I barely go on desktop ffnet, so if you have questions please send me a message there (I'll have the link in my bio )**

 **Music Terms:**

 _ **Crescendo:**_ a gradual increase in loudness in a piece of music

 _ **Decrescendo:**_ a gradual decrease in loudness in a piece of music

 _ **Marcato:**_ Strong accent on a note, makes it POP (think **toot** as opposed to **doo** ), and it harshly detaches a note from the others

 _ **Staccato:**_ soft accent on a note (think **doot** instead of **doo** ), lightly detaches a note from the others

 _ **Legato:**_ Notes are connected (think **doooo** instead of **doo** ), but they are not in a slur or tie

 ** _Phrase:_** a musical sentence, usually four measures long (you can breathe in a phrase only inbetween them)

 ** _Shape:_** a combination of volume changes and articulation that gives the music a "shape" (like if a phrase is loud and has lots of marcatos it could be "fat")

 ** _Partials (only for brass instruments):_** Since brass instrument (except trombone who has a slide) have like three or four keys, sometimes instead of having to change our fingerings when playing, we have to jump partials (fatser/ more air make the note higher). It's not a big deal on any instrument except french horn. That's actually one of the reasons French Horn is so damn hard to play, because we have like 8 different notes between partials, so sometimes you want to play a certain note and it come out wrong a lot (unless you're realy good like me **B)** ) unlike other brass instruments which only have like three at most (fucking weak)

 **Thanks for reading! Please R &R!**


	2. A New Definition to Music Aficonado

Gilbert jumped out of his brother's car before it was fully stopped and sprinted towards the PAC as fast as he could.

"Gilbert! You know I have to stop the car before you can get out," yelled Ludwig, his eyebrows furrowed in irritation.

He looked back and shouted," _Es tut mir leid_ Lud. Thanks for the ride but the awesome me needs to get going!"

Ludwig whispered a quiet _dummkopf_ under his breath before driving away, hoping his brother made it to wherever he was rushing off to.

 _Fuck fuckfuckfuck, okay you're only two minutes behind it's okay,_ Gilbert thought frantically.

He knew everything was not okay. His director/best friend had asked him to record the audition that was taking place today, since apparently his younger son was performing. Actually, had no idea the guy had _another_ kid until last week when high school seniors began auditioning and he honestly was horrified at the thought of having another egomaniac in the band (lord knows they have too many). He had to make it to the stage as fast as possible because once the performer came on, the doors to the stage closed so no one could come in and disrupt what was happening. In fact, audiences weren't even allowed during auditions; musicians needed a good environment to get their A game on.

Luckily, another one of Gilbert's friends was working the stage that day to let him in. All he had to do was make it on time...

...Which, obviously, he failing at.

He reached the entrance and stopped abruptly as he was momentarily distracted by the plant covered, baroque-esque building.

In the middle of Gilbert's first year at Samwell, the college had made a huge decision in going green, not only with their huge cut down of waste and increased use of efficient recycling practices, but also with making the campus greener with more foliage. When UW had caught wind of this, they had followed suit, and the rival schools had found yet another thing to compete with. In an effort to outdo their enemy, Samwell's art, agriculture, and engineering majors had collaborated on a giant plan to cover the buildings in what was basically plant art. Up until a few weeks ago all of the buildings looked as if they were covered in massive dirt boards but now that it was mid spring, the flowers and plants on the roofs and ledges were in full bloom.

"Awesome," he thought outloud, taking in the patterns the different greenery on the walls made, vines cascading off the ledges of the verandas. Gilbert then remembered he didn't have tine to waste stating, so he rushed in, hurrying to the band hall so he could make it to the theater.

He saw the stage doors just as his friend Antonio was about to close them.

"Tonio, wait wait wait!," shouted Gilbert

"Shhh! Sorry Gilbert, you have to be quiet, people can hear stuff from out here. Also, you're late amigo." Antonio grinned. "I know you're doing Francis a favor, so you have to absolutely be in here, but since _tu eres tarde,_ you know I can't let you in."

"Okay since we both know you don't actually care about breaking rules, let's just get to it." Gilbert knew his friend way to well for this, seeing right through his facade. "What do you want?" Gilbert tried sounding chill but when his friend got that look you knew he was going to fuck with you big time.

It was pretty funny when you weren't the victim... Except he was the victim in this case.

The Spanish man's forest green eyes glowed a darker shade as his grin grew more mischevious. "Well, you know how the solo on the new song doubles as a flute or sax solo?"

Gilbert raised an eyebrow, "Yeah, and..?"

Crossing his tan arms, Antonio bluntly said, "Give me the solo."

Gilbert's eyes widened. "What the fuck? Nu uh, _hell no_. I worked hard for that solo. I had to fight two other people for it and kiss Francis' ass so hard that my face was practically stuck to his asshole. Tonio let me in or I'm telling Lovino what you did to his tomato plant."

Antonio blanched at the threat, knowing full well his boyfriend would make him pay dearly for murdering his beloved little plant, but it seemed to Gilbert that he wasn't going to let up. "Hmmm obviously I wasn't clear. Give me the solo or you don't get to see Francis' kid perform," he demanded. His smile was still ever present.

Gilbert flashed back to getting his first song as first chair flute, a position he had fought tooth and nail for. He remembered seeing the solo in the 1st flute part and immediately deciding he would be the one to play it. He had slaved over the errands Francis had him run ( _Ahhh_ , mon ami _, a shoulder rub would be nice right about now; Gilbert, I am so busy with these kids' music theory papers and there these two women that, uhh, require some extra practice, if you catch my meaning *cue fancy french wink*, why don't you grade them for me)_. To make sure he had the part, he had bribed the first flute with a week of favors, and paid the other $350 (which he had spent weeks saving to buy an Xbox One). He didn't even want to talk about what he had to do for the alto sax player (he had to throw away the clothes he wore that night; they were permanently covered in glitter).

"Alright, I guess you aren't going to see Francis' son play then." Antonio began closing the doors, "Have fun explaining to Francis you were late. He won't be happy and _te va a mata-_ "

"Okay wait," Gilbert put his foot in the door just as they were about to click shut and Antonio raised an eyebrow, a smile still on his face.

Even though Gilbert wanted to murder him on the inside ( _Stupid, Spanish prick, making me do this shit, fuck this and fuck Francis, he should've went to see his son himself GAHDBSKJBADSJFHGUISEO)_ he agreed to giving him his solo and shook on it, despite how hard he had worked for it.

The things he does for his friends.

As Gilbert walked in, Antonio quietly called to him. "Just so you know, you weren't going to be late. I tweaked the stage clock because I knew you'd get off schedule. You should really check if your alarm clock is accurate."

Gilbert's face contorted into one of pure disbelief, but before he could beat the shit out of the happy-looking asshole, Antonio dashed backstage, safe from an ass-kicking.

 _Fucking asshole_ , thought the pale man as he took a seat away from the front. He ran his hands through his spiky white hair. _Well, actually, that's probably why we're friends. Jesus, maybe I should get new friends. Ones that don't steal solos you killed yourself over._

As he sat he took in the theaters appearance. It looked incredibly different than when the university had first opened its doors. Six or seven years ago, Samwell had started up an international student acceptance program and almost anyone in the world could now come to their school if the drive, grades, and talent. After all, arts and sciences were the school's strong suit being tied for best medical program in the country with UW, in the top ten for engineering of all kinds, and in the top five for all arts. The school had a strong appeal to youth all over the world with their high status and somewhat reasonable tuition. Now that there were so many people from different countries attending, the school adapted to suit the tastes of its diverse student population. Halls rapidly were filled with fifty different flags, fliers in different languages and there were events almost every week to celebrate the cultures represented by the students. Not to mention, the cafeteria food was better than ever. Gilbert had no clue where the hell moussaka was from but the minute the delicious dish hit his taste buds it he knew where it was going.

Straight into his mouth, right down into his stomach.

Gilbert snapped out of his small food fantasy when he heard one of the judges start speaking and he realized that the performer had already walked out on stage with his accompanist. A tall boy with golden, wavy hair sat on stage, wearing a basic suit, a wayward curl in his face. He sat elegantly with his silver instrument.

 _Damn that kid looks nervous._ Thought Gilbert. The initial impression of elegance wore off as he could see the blond fiddling with his instrument, glancing around. He could feel the anxious energy coming from the stage, especially when the kid opened his mouth to speak.

"Hi, I'm Matthew Williams and I am from Auburn Mountainview High School. Today I am playing Nocturno Op. 7 and my accompanist is Alfred F. Jones." Said the performer, somewhat quietly.

 _That's weird, I wonder why they all have different last names?_ Gilbert thought. Alfred Jones, Francis Bonnefoy, and Matthew Williams? Weird. He didn't ponder it for too long though; Matthew took a deep breath, picking up his French Horn ( _Nice, we always need some more of those)_ and the albino knew the audition was officially about to begin.

The kid, Matthew, blew the horn… and Gilbert's mind too.

 _Holy shit._

He was absolutely entranced with the beautiful sound the horn made. There was no way that was just a kid playing a French horn. That was an angel playing God's horn; he would bet all of his money on that in a heartbeat. Gilbert had never felt so affected by a performance, in disbelief that Matthew was a high school senior.

He observed the blonde on the stage, watching him sway with the music. He could tell Matthew was in a whole other world. He could relate, I mean, is a musician really a musician if he can't escape through to his own world? Matthew was somewhere else and Gilbert could feel himself getting pulled with him. _Talk about musical escapism, this is on a whole 'nother level._ Gilbert had always thought of himself as a music aficionado, but he wished he could change the term to fit what he felt for Matthew's playing.

His eyes were absolutely glued to the blond. Gilbert could admit it, this guy was almost as awesome as himself.

"Alright then." Gilbert snapped out of his momentary trance as he heard the judges speak.

"We have the performance recorded and we'll jot down anything we had to say about it on our clipboards," said the woman judge in a monotone voice. "We'll tell you if you got in soon enough. You may go now, thank you."

The judges began getting up and leaving and it seemed to Gilbert that they suddenly didn't see Matthew.

"Oh umm," started Matthew, "How will I know if I made it? Are you guys gonna send an email, or call, or ….?"

From what Gilbert could tell, the judges had forgotten he had existed, as they walked off the stage. Wow _it's like this kid never auditioned. Why are they ignoring him?_ Gilbert was almost as irritated as the musician, who he could see quietly curse on stage. _Ha_ , _he looks a lot like Frenchie when he's irritated_. Gilbert could see Alfred blabbering away to Matthew and the blond tuned him out which he found funny. After all, everyone in the band tuned out Alfred when he got to talking; it's always best to tune out a trumpet ego. Gilbert stared at Matthew, trying to take him in so that he could relay as much information about Matthew and his performance possible to Francis, but then, the blond stared right back, catching his eyes, looking slightly bewildered as if he was not used to that kind of attention (as minuscule as it was). Gilbert was prepared to give the blond a nasty glare; having stark white hair, pale moonlight skin, and blood red eyes made people stare at him like some kind of specimen under a microscope. Of course, you'd think an awesome guy like Gilbert would ignore it but it honestly always irritated him.

As the albino looked at the blond, He noticed the kid starting to blush heavily...

And he was not prepared for how adorable it looked.

It caught Gilbert off guard, but he didn't break the eye contact and tried to look friendly. He probably didn't do a good job since the kid looked away quickly, in an embarrassed fashion. He felt pretty awkward despite not knowing the kid so he decided that it was best to leave the theater before the kid glanced back at him.

The pale man crouched down to the floor and crawled out of the auditorium, feeling strangely bashful.

Gott, _that was lame. What is wrong with you_ dummkopf, Gilbert thought angrily, mortified at the way he had acted. Walking out of the music hall he rushed out of the building and sat at one of the stone benches in the front courtyard. He felt his feelings sour a little but ignored them and waited for Francis to pick him up so he could tell him about Matthew's performance and then go to Dick's. He was starving; the man hadn't eaten all day since he had to finish homework for his two math courses.

You think someone who had always struggled with math would've picked another major besides computer engineering, but what can Gilbert say, when he liked something as much as technology, he was willing to take twenty years worth of it. He was so determined to get into computers, he had worked hard all throughout high school, making it to Calculus AB through sheer work and determination.

What can the guy say, he's as stubborn as they come.

" _Mon ami,_ over here!" Francis pulled up a little ways away in his red Mini convertible, looking as chipper as ever. His pale golden hair waved in the warm breeze ad the Frenchman gazed over his Versace sunglasses, happy, dark blue eyes landing on Gilbert. "Get in the car and tell me how _mon petite_ son did."

Diva didn't even begin to describe the albino's friend. The man was dressed beautifully. A rich blue blazer over a white striped shirt brought out his eyes and dark maroon formal pants accentuated the pale gold of his hair. His wrist was adorned with a golden watch, and around his neck sat a thin gold chain with a delicate cross. Francis' appearance always screamed class.

Gilbert could only imagined how bad he looked beside his friend, wearing ripped black jeans, a red t-shirt, and a beanie who's black color had faded into a gray. The tattered backpack and dirtied white vans didn't help. He was the picture of broke college student, but if it made people look down at him, he couldn't care less. Only un-awesome people let other people's opinions get to them.

He got into Francis' car and the pair of friends rode for a while before Gilbert asked, "How come you didn't go see Matthew yourself?" Gilbert paused for a second and went on to say, "Okay actually, better question, how come you never talked about having another kid?"

"Ahhh that is a long story, friend, but for right now why don't you just tell me how he did. I hope his performance was indicative of his good bringing up by _moi_." Francis glowed at the self compliment.

Gilbert scowled, only slightly annoyed that Francis had avoided the question, but he told the older man about his performance. "You know, you definitely didn't have to give the kid a freebie spot in the band. He probably has more talent in his pinky than the whole damn trumpet section."

"You are just saying that because of your personal rivarly with the brass section. Which is ridiculous, if I may add; there is only room for _l'amour_ in my band _mon cher._ " Francis took his eyes off the road for a moment to give Gilbert one of his famous French winks and Gilbert groaned hoping he wouldn't go off on his rant about love.

"Okay something that was weird about the kid is that once he was done playing, the judges totally ignored him, like he didn't exist. Like, he was trying to get their attention and they all just walked out," Gilbert remembered.

"Hmm, for some reason Mathieu has always been somewhat invisible. I'm not sure why, his looks are as good to rival my own. For some reason people only see him when he's on the Hockey rink or when he's playing his instrument. Well at least, I'm assuming that's still true, it's been a couple years since I've actually talked to him," Francis explained. "Also, why are you calling my son kid, you are only a year older, "He added

"Francis we're like best bros, so it's almost like the kid is my nephew. You know sometimes I forget that you're pretty old." Francis clutched his chest in dramatic, pretend agony. "Gilbert, how you wound me! Old?! I think the term tastefully aged is much better suited to piece of art like me. Old is an insult to my radiant _beau_ looks."

"Whatever you say old man. Here, if we're going to grab coffee atthe coffee shop in the UW campus, you better put this on." Gilbert reached into his bag and pulled out two custom Samwell University Sweatshirts, complete with a shark biting into a huskie. "I will never pass up a chance to piss off those UW pricks. Especially that Gilen dude that works at the coffee shop, he's such a hard ass."

Francis wrinkled his nose, as he parked the car two streets away from the alley where the cafe was located. "That looks quite distasteful. Besides, my ensemble today is very nice and I would not appreciate you ruining my look with that rag of a sweater, since it appears to be made out of polyester," Francis said with a wave of his hand.

As they got out of the car, Gilbert rolled his eyes and with a smirk, and he pulled the sweater over the Frenchman's head.

"Gilbert what are you-"

"Put the sweater on Frenchie I'm trying to piss off the barista!"

"No get off of me you cretin! _Tu vas le regretter, idiot!_ "

The two struggled, getting strange looks from people passing by and Gilbert finally pulled the sweater over the older man's head. "Perfect let's get going."

"Hmmph, I hope you know you just lost your solo to Antonio."

The two entered the alley way, ready for a cold caffeinated drink, and Gilbert grinned knowingly.

"Ha, you have no idea."

* * *

 **Hey guys! Sorry I'm almost a week late on updates I didn't realize how much time it took to edit. Now that I know how long I take to write and edit, I'll be able to update on time.**

 **I just want to be clear that the last chapter and maybe the next chapter or two is before the actual story begins. This is the audition to get into Samwell's band and like their first meeting (kinda). After all the audition stuff I'm probably gonna do a time jump.**

 **ALSO I'M SCREAMING. I KIND OF MADE IT SO THAT THE CAMPUS WAS NEAR GAS WORKS IN SEATTLE BUT THAT"S LIKE RIGHT NEXT TO UW. LOL I GUESS THAT'LL JUST INTENSIFY THE RIVALRY.**

 **Sooo I changed the story name, chapter name, and the summary (I did all of that initially at like one am so there hella mistakes and the summary was borderline crack lmao) and I edited the first chapter, so if you read it during the first few days of its publication please reread there could be some extra stuff. Also, I just want you guys to know that my interpretation of aph Spain is that he's really kind… except when he fucks with members of the BFT (you can only put up with so many shenanigans before you start getting a touch meaner). Don't worry though guys he does it with a smile :)**

 **If you want any extra information like details about Samwell Campus and stuff, go to the tumblr url on my bio.**

 **I also just want to be clear tha the orchestra will be involved in the story but that's when the band and orchestra come together to play for a special event (that I will get to) and of course the PRANK WARRRR.**

 **Anyways, here are some translations:**

 **Spanish:**

 _Tarde-_ Late

 _Te va a mata[r]-_ he's gonna kill you

 **German:**

 _Es tut mir leid-_ I'm sorry

 _Gott-_ God

 _Dummkopf-_ Dummy

 **French:**

 _Mon ami-_ My friend

 _Mon petite-_ My little

 _L'amour-_ Love

 _Mon cher-_ My sweet

 _Beau-_ Beautiful

 _Tu vas le regretter, idiot_ \- You're going to regret that idiot

 _Moi-_ My

 **(I use Google Translate so sorry for errors!)**

 **Thank you for reading please R &R they're my motivation to write! :)**


	3. Unexpected Rain to Unexpected Sunshine

**FYI Dick's is a real burger place in Washington ans most of them are located in Seattle. It's also really cheap and way tastier than McDonald's, and there's one located in the university district, so I figured it would be more realistic to make Alfred a giant fan of Dick's ;) .**

* * *

Gilbert and Francis rounded the alleyway corner where the coffee shop sat, wedged between two bookstores. The shop was quaint, with open seating on the top floor, and roses cascading off of the worn wooden railings. By the entrance, numerous pots of colorful flowers hung off of the roof, which was adorned by a sign with the coffee shop's name, Allegro, in beautiful calligraphy. The smell of cinnamon, coffee and freshly baked bread grew stronger as he approached it. It was a peaceful scene. Well almost.

As Gilbert walked closer to the shop, a tiny man ran out of it, outrage settling on his face when he saw Gilbert's sweater, which had a huskie being bitten into by a shark.

Saying the UW and Samwell rivalry was vicious was an understatement.

The shop owner's bright blue eyes narrowed, and his slightly chubby cheeks scrunched up in a pout."Oh frick no!" he shouted as he scurried to the entrance and blocked the way. His arms were crossed and strands of his platinum blond hair were cascading out of his bun, due to his frantic manner. Gilbert could see him puff out his chest to look bigger.

 _This loser, I swear he's the most unawesome guy I've ever met._

Gilbert smirked and walked faster towards the coffee shop's entrance, enjoying the reaction his awesome presence gave the little man. Francis rolled his eyes as he walked behind him. _If Dmitri gets to him, I won't help him this time. That black eye was too high of a price to pay for being a good friend. Plus, Lovi gave Tonio quite the reprimand when Gilen gave him a call_. Francis tugged at his cross necklace lightly, a habit he had gained due to being involved in his younger friend's ridiculous antics (not that he didn't enjoy it). Hanging out with energetic college boys was bound to be draining on an older man, despite his youthful attitude. He stood a little ways away from the door to let Gilen and Gilbert have their little spat in peace.

Gilbert reached the doorway and asked, "Hey Gilen, like the sweatshirt? I made it especially for you, cause I knew you'd get a kick out of it kesesese!" His head tilted back in exaggerated laughter. The shop owner was almost his complete opposite in terms of personality, and Gilbert would do anything to get a rise out of him.

Gilen frowned, obviously irritated. "First of all, that shirt is horrific and, second, I'm not letting you in, and third, this cafe is for UW students only! I made sure of that after that little fiasco caused last time!" The platinum blond looked away haughtily. "I let you in here before because I'm nice, and Francis and Toni leave good tips, and Toni's boyfriend works part time here, but that was a mistake! Our second floor seating area still has a giant dent in the floor, no one comes to our open mics anymore cause people are nervous and the mic is broken." Gilen's eyes glossed over with tears, continuing to say, "Plus, my baby has a scar on his face!"

Gilbert looked over Gilen's shoulder and peeked at his giant boyfriend Dmitri. True and behold the guy had a decent sized scar on his chin. "My bad," he said apologetically. He thought back to what had happened last time he had came here with his friends.

Francis and Toni had dragged him to Allegro because Gilen had been nice enough to let Francis have unlimited coffee when he graded papers in the shop. The day the group of friends went it happened to be open mic night too, and Gilbert, unfortunately for everyone else, was bored as all hell (not to mention he was a sucker for poetry, even if he'd never admit it). So, he tried his hand at reciting, but after not getting the applause he had wanted on his (really badly) improvised poem, he figured that doing a back flip off the stage would get him some.

He ended up cracking a floor board and killing a mic when he landed hard on his back, which got him into a screaming match with the shops tiny owner who had told the albino that he was going to pay for the damages. That had set the albino off since he was broke due to tuition and could not afford to pay off what had cost the shop owners' weeks of tips. Gilbert ended up getting into a fist fight with Dmitri after he had decked Gilen, which made him cry out and start sobbing. Gilen's massive Russian boyfriend, Dmitri, had bolted up the steps and lost his shit. Seeing his adorable boyfriend in tears with his tiny, delicate hand covering his eye (which later had turned puffy and bruised) had really brought out the beast in him. His normally calm and gentle demeanor had given way to what Gilen called his "mama bear mode." Gilbert claimed to have won the fight but Francis, Toni and many others had been witness to him tripping the bear into the table, and running off, leaving the Frenchman and Spanish man with the aftermath.

Needless to say, Antonio and Francis had left massive tips at the shop that day.

Of course Gilen had called Lovino as well and had gotten Antonio in a load of trouble.

Snapping out from his thoughts, Gilbert blushed, somewhat ashamed, even as he tried convincing himself it was Dmitri's fault. "Okay look I didn't mean to scar his chin!" he started. "He just happened to smack the corner of the table when I tripped him and I didn't want to stick around to get my ass beat for it." Gilbert could see Dmitri's golden eyes stare him down from behind Gilen, and the bulky man made an "I'm watching you" motion with his hands, making Gilbert nervous (although he'd never admit it).

The smaller man took an unsure step towards Gilbert. Even though he was timid at heart was going to stand his ground because there was no way he would let this demon eyed brute in his beloved coffee shop again. It kind of impressed Gilbert but still, he scowled and put his hands on the other man's shoulders. "Listen kid," he spat somewhat rudely, "I'm not trying to start trouble so let me in. I'm only gonna be here for a few and it's starting to rain." Fat drops of water fell from the sky and began to splash onto Gilbert.

Gilen, however, was stubborn. He pushed the albino's hands off his shoulder and said, "Francis you can come in and stay here awhile if you leave me a fat tip, but jerk face over here, he's going to have to wait outside."

Francis pushed past Gilen and Gilbert, giving the latter of the two a sincerely apologetic look and saying, " _Désolé_ , this is the only shop around that has unlimited coffee for teachers who are grading. I'm sure you can walk to Dick's on your own, _non_?" The long haired man pulled off his sweater, throwing it to Gilbert. "You can take this back."

Gilbert tried to push past Gilen as well, sweater in hand, but Dmitri rushed to the door, his long brown hair flowing behind him, and shoved Gilbert out, closing and locking the door.

"Leave." The man crossed his arms, and puffed out his massive chest, looking quite intimidating.

"Fine whatever, I'll just do something else."

And with that, Gilbert walked off to Dick's in the rain, muttering about stupid open mic nights, and dumb tiny guys with their massive Russian boyfriends.

* * *

Matthew's foot slammed into a deep puddle again, further soaking his red chucks, and cursed. The two brothers had been running in the rain for five minutes, heading to Dick's on foot since neither of them had a car. Washington didn't rain much in the summer but of course, with Matthew's luck, it would start raining when he was caught outside. Plus, due to the favorable (yet incorrect) forecast all Matthew had for a change of clothes was his not-waterproof clothes that consisted of his favorite red flannel, jeans, and his prescription sunglasses, as he wasn't planning to stay in his formal outfit all day. The only thing he was wearing that probably wouldn't end up soaking wet was his fur hat and leather chucks.

Alfred was worse off in his stars and stripes bucket hat, board shorts and Captain America tee. His brother's aviator shades were covered in water droplets and his black Nikes looked like they were getting soaked.

It wasn't all bad though; even if the rain soaked him and his brother, it was accompanied by warmth, so he didn't feel too grumpy.

"Hey, a little Washington rain never hurt anyone. Besides, we're almost there and we can get under cover. Then you can dry off, ya princess," said Alfred teasingly, huffing slightly from running. The pair of brothers continued on under the shimmering green trees, slowing to a jog when they saw the burger stand.

"Damn bro we are practically dripping," Alfred whined wringing out shirt under the protection they gained from the stand's roof. The younger brother could see the beginnings of a pout form on his face; Alfred had always been weak when it came to the cold. Matthew waved him off and said, "Let's just order so we can get out of this rain. Also, since I had to audition today you're treating me."

Alfred scowled."Mattie I am a college student running on like no funds, why would I treat you?"

"Ummmm, because I forgot my wallet. Besides Al," Matthew gave his sibling his best puppy dog look. "Aren't older brothers supposed to be the hero?" Matthew knew Alfred would never turn down doing something heroic, so he would have to agree to buying him lunch. The older sibling crossed his arms, looking away from Matthew's flawless puppy eyes, trying to hold out against his brother's taunt, but with a defeated look he muttered, "Yeah, whatever I'll be your hero you jerk." He reached in his pocket to pull out his wallet, but then began frantically patting all of his pockets. "You know, actually, about that. I kinda forgot my wallet at the dorms."

Matthew put a palm to his face. "Okay, well the band house is like five blocks down so go get it. I'm starving. I haven't eaten all day."

Alfred pouted. "But Maaaatieeeee, it's so rainy why can't you get it?"

"Cause I'm not supposed to be the responsible one," the golden blond responded. "Call it the benefits of being the youngest." Matthew unbuttoned his flannel, and took off his hat, tossing the clothing to Alfred. "Put these on, your lips are turning a little blue. Now, go get it."

Alfred put them on didn't budge, but Matthew began shoving him to the sidewalk, away from cover, so he began to leave, yelling an "alright bossy pants, I'll go get my damn wallet."

Matthew smirked, and turned around to run under cover since his undershirt was beginning to get wet…

But next thing he knew, he was smacking into something solid, pain exploding on his chin and hitting the wet ground.

"What the fuck, watch where you're going. You almost knocked me over ," said a voice.

Matthew looked up and found glaring red eyes down at him. The eyes belonged to man with white hair and pale pale skin. He rubbed the back of his head, his face adorning a grimace. _This guy was in the auditorium earlier. He watched me audition_ , Matthew realized.

"Here, let me help you up." The sun came out behind the clouds and shined behind the man as he bent over to lend Matthew a hand. The rain shimmered behind him, and he glowed like snow caught in moonlight. Matthew found himself blushing.

"Hey, I saw you audition earlier. I gotta tell you, I was impressed. You were almost as good as me," Gilbert grinned, his eyes shining in recognition as pulled Matthew up with a little more force than necessary. Matthew stumbled into Gilbert, and because he was bigger, two lost balance and fell to the ground into a huge puddle.

"Holy fuck that's cold!," shouted Gilbert, as he shoved Matthew off of him.

"Oh shit I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to do that. I'm a total dolt!" Matthew exclaimed. He grabbed the shivering albino by the arms and pulled him up. "Here, my brother is coming back from the dorms with his wallet let me treat you please. Or I guess, have my brother treat you haha," Matthew laughed awkwardly, feeling distressed. He just met this guy and knocked him into a puddle. _Way to go Williams,_ he thought.

"It's okay kid, it's no big deal. By the way you're really tall; your chin smacked right into my head," Gilbert said, sounding a little irritated despite the good-natured smile on his face.

Matthew felt bad. He had had an unexpected growth spurt this year, shooting up from 5'10 to 6'3. He still wasn't used to the height. "Listen I'm really sorry okay, I didn't mean to knock you over I'm a huge klutz and-" Matthew was interrupted by a cold white hand covering his mouth. "Listen," Gilbert started, "let's just forget that little fiasco and start over." Gilbert looked himself and Matthew up and down, noticing how soaked they were and then added, "Let's get some cover from this rain too."

They both sat at a table under cover and didn't talk. Matthew felt uncomfortable; he fidgeted, bouncing his leg fast, feeling awkward since he didn't know what to say. Gilbert just looked away, staring at the sidewalk, visibly shivering. Matthew wanted to break the silence.

He nervously asked, "So…. what did you think of my solo?"

Gilbert turned to look at him, eyes glinting in excitement. "Your solo was awesome and honestly there's no doubt you're gonna make it in," Gilbert answered enthusiastically. "Samwell's horn section hasn't been doing so hot the last few years if what Francis told me was right."

The blond nodded, slightly blanching at the mention of Francis' name. "Yeah he told me something like that." He fidgeted with the ends of his black undershirt, still nervous about talking to Gilbert. "I mean, honestly, I was a little worried about picking a hard piece like Nocturno, because if I had butchered it, there was no way I could have a chance at making it in the band, even if they were desperate for horns."

"True." The albino paused for a second and then asked, "By the way, this is kind of random, but you're Francis' kid, right?"

Matthew was taken off guard by the question. By the looks of it though, it seemed to him that the ruby eyed man already knew the answer to that."

"Yeah, why?" answered Matthew, somewhat nervously.

Gilbert put his elbows up on the table, his face resting on his hands and an eyebrow raised, head tilted inquisitively. "I don't know, I was just wondering. What's the deal with you and him anyways. By the look on your face you'd think you guys weren't fond of each other despite being father and son." Matthew reddened at that, embarrassed that he was being so obvious. Gilbert further probed. "Actually, the whole reason I was at the theater when you were auditioning earlier was cause he asked me to watch you. I don't know why he didn't want to do it himself. He avoided my questions when I asked him earlier."

Matthew's eyes looked away, and he focused a napkin under the table flapping at the slight breeze. _Jeez didn't I just meet this guy? That's a pretty personal question to ask._ He bit his lip. "Why do you want to know, are you guys friends or something?"

"Yeah actually. He's one of my best friends here. I mean we've only known each other a year, but me, him and our other friend Antonio are like peas in a pod."

"Isn't he a bit too old to be running around with college students?" Matthew asked.

Gilbert laughed at that. "You know he'd probably die if he heard you say that. He claims to be young at heart. But I'm not one to judge; if you're fun to hang with, then age won't stop me from chillin' with you."

Matthew pictured Francis wreaking havoc on the school with his college-aged companions, deciding it wasn't as weird of scene as he first thought; the Frenchman had always been quite eccentric and it was fitting that he would have some young friends.

"Well, even if you're just a curious friend of his, I don't think it'd be interesting to hear. It's a long story after all," he countered. He hoped Gilbert would leave the question alone and be satisfied with the answer, but the white-haired man seemed like the kind to push for information if he was curious about something.

"Are you sure, cause if I'm gonna be honest I actually didn't know Francis had another kid until last week. I thought Alfred was his only one. Their relationship is kinda strained too though from what I can tell," Gilbert added.

Matthew looked into Gilbert's eyes, slightly angry. Was Francis embarrassed of him or something? I mean the blond knew that their relationship was strained but it was almost like the dick didn't acknowledge his existence.

"Listen," Matthew said, his irritation starting to show. "I just met you so I really don't want to relay this whole tragic past bullshit to you. Maybe Francis will tell you eventually. It seems like you guys are good friends anyways and if I know him as well as I think, his personal information is never in the dark for too long since he's always talking about himself." Gilbert raised his brow at Mathew calling his father by name, but raised his hands in defeat. "Alright, alright I'll leave it be."

Matthew said, "Let's just change the subject. What instrument do you play?"

Gilbert grinned, as if pleased to have been asked the question. "I obviously play the best instrument in the world which is the-"

 _God, with an ego like this it's obvious what he plays,_ Matthew thought. He waited for him to say trumpet.

"-flute!" Matthew choked. What?! "You? A flute player? I'll be honest I really don't believe you, I mean, a head that big belongs in the trumpet section," he mused.

Gilbert frowned, "Hey don't lump me with those egotistical bastards."

Matthew grinned. "Dude, I've only been talking to you for five minutes and I can already tell you have a bigger head than even my brother, self proclaimed hero." The blond then looked horrified for a second, and tentatively said, "Please tell me that he doesn't do the whole 'I'm the hero' thing when you guys rehearse."

Gilbert groaned. "Oh God, everyday. Something will happen and no matter what the circumstanc, he just shoots out of his seat and yells 'It's okay! I'm the hero, I'll fix it!'"

Gilbert imitated Matthew's older brother, standing on the bench, hands on his hips, yelling, "Lovino, you sat on your oboe and broke it? Don't worry, the hero is here to help!"

Matthew giggled. The albino then got up on the table, striking a hero pose, mimicking Alfred's crazy grin. "Papa what's that? You need someone to conduct while you go to the bathroom? The hero will help!"

Matthew laughed harder, tears forming in his eyes, but stopped when he saw his brother jogging down the sidewalk to their table. "Gilbert wait my brother-"

Gilbert cut him off, "I'm the hero, so that means I don't have basic manners and listen to what people have to say." He threw his head back with an exaggerated laugh.

"No Gilbert stop he's coming-"

"Oh I give him shit about this one all the time. " His face took on a more seductive look and he leaned down from the table until his face was inches away from Matthew's. "Oh Kiku what's that? You hurt your foot with the clarinet spike? Lemme kiss it all bett-"

* * *

Gilbert yelped as he felt strong arms wrap around his middle and he was suddenly thrown off the table. He looked up from the ground at two pairs of eyes, one violet and one blue.

"Hmm, finish that sentence why don't you, you dumb flute prick," said Alfred tauntingly. "I don't need people teasing me about Kiku; it's not my fault you're jealous of our awesome friendship. Also, leave my brother alone," he warned. "If I wanted get shitty friends I would've introduced him to Lars." Alfred's eyes took on a piercing shade of blue as they filled indignant anger as he stood there arms crossed. Gilbert could admit that the normally happy, cheery guy could look pretty scary when he wanted to.

"Who's Lars?" Asked the younger sibling. "No one, but if you ever talk to him and he offers you brownies DON'T," warned Gilbert from the ground. He was speaking from experience; the last time he had one of Lars' "special brownies' he had woken up on a park bench in a fursuit. He did not want to know what had happened that night.

"Al, dude, you didn't have to throw him off the table still. He was just joking. Gilbert seems like a nice guys anyways." Matthew helped Gilbert up from the ground.

"Yeah Alfred, listen to your little brother. He actually seems like a normal human being that doesn't cause the people around him to go deaf with his voice," sneered Gilbert. Honestly, if he thought about it, he did like the blond so far from their conversation. He had a good sense of humor and liked the banter they exchanged.

"So did you get your wallet Al?" Matthew asked his older brother as him and Gilbert sat back down. "I kind knocked Gilbert over into a puddle and I felt bad so I told him you'd treat him to lunch too."

Alfred sat down across from the two. "Awwww what the fuck Mattie. I'm too broke for this, at least until my next paycheck," Alfred whined. Gilbert sighed, "That broke college life though." The two half heartedly high fived.

"Go order you dummy."

Alfred ordered as the other two waited at the table. He returned with two trays that had all their food on it.

As Alfred sucked down his food at lightning speed, Gilbert put his hands on the table wanting to get back to talking about Matthew's solo. "So, I was telling Matthew here that he's probably gonna make it into the band," he explained in between bites. Alfred scoffed, his mouth full of food, exclaming, "Of course he will, he's my little brother after all!" The Albino rolled his eyes and faced Matthew, who was happily munching on his fries. "Actually Matt, you can probably get a good scholarship from the band if you want."

"Yeah I don't need it though, I've got a full ride scholarship 'cause I made it on the hockey team." The blond smiled proudly. "I'm going to be one of next years' starters."

"Holy shit," Gilbert breathed. This kid had to be incredible; Samwell had one of the best college hockey teams in the nation and had even beat some Canadian teams. Then he thought about who was on the team and freaked out. "Don't tell me you have to deal with the stupid Nords and that crazy Russian." Alfred's eyes widened in realization. "Ohhh fuck Mattie, the Nordic Five get into crazy shit. I heard their hazing is absolutely crazy." Gilbert interjected, adding, "Listen kid, don't get me started on the Russian kid. Ivan is absolutely insane, I'm pretty sure he only loves his two sisters and vodka. One time, he almost snapped my arm in half when he caught me looking at his sister's jugs."

He then smirked, glancing over at Alfred. "It was worth it though, have you seen those things?" Alfred sighed dreamily in agreement.

Gilbert then looked over at Alfred, and both of them got even more frantic as they both realized, "LARS IS ON THE TEAM."

Alfred and Gilbert both started shaking Matthew's shoulders like mad, the wheat blond yelling "Mattie please don't turn into a stoner" and Gilbert shouting "Don't eat the brownies, stay the hell away from the brownies!" Gilbert had to warn this kid against the dangers of hockey, I mean didn't Matthew understand who he was spending time with?!

Matthew slapped both of them off, his hits much harder than Gilbert expected. "Okay if you guys are talking about Berwald, Mathias, Lukas, Tino, and Emil I'm telling you they are really nice. Especially Tino. He brought me a pie when I made it onto the team. Also, me and Ivan are friends now, and we text a lot." Matthew turned bright red. "I'm even friends with his sister Katsuyasha. She's really nice and has a great personality." Gilbert snickered. "Oh yeah, cause that's what you're really paying attention to when you hang out with her." The younger man rolled his eyes.

Matthew turned to his brother and his new acquaintance, haughtily saying, "I don't understand your weariness towards Lars either, cause he's given me lots of brownies-" Gilbert slid to the floor in horror, Alfred losing color in his face when his beloved baby brother said this- "and I've never gotten fucked up."

Matthew checked the time as he finished his meal. "Speaking of hockey, I just realized that I have to hit practice."

"Wait why are you going to practice, it's like April," Alfred questioned, confused. Gilbert was confused too since hockey started in fall.

"Well, I'm starting next year but I'm a freshman, so they need to give me extra training. Also, they need to bulk me up or whatever." He flexed his bicep half heartedly. "Apparently the only thing I'm missing from being the perfect player is the bulky muscle. Height isn't a problem at all though."

As he got up to leave with his trash, the golden blonde faced Gilbert, the albino noticing a slight blush on his face as the kid went on to say,"Hey it was nice meeting you Gilbert. Even if I knocked you over into a puddle, and learned how nosy you are." Gilbert grinned.

"Kid you seem pretty awesome too. Next year when you're on campus call me up and we can hang out."

Alfred scowled at this yelling,"As if I'd let my baby brother hang out with a loser like you!"

Matthew rolled his eyes, giggling, which was oddly cute to Gilbert. "Don't kill each other while I'm gone okay. Oh and Alfred just keep the clothes I gave you in your dorm until the next time I come by."

He began to walk down the street, but turned back to wave.

The sun shined from behind the clouds and the rain stopped. The sunshine illuminated Matthew's hair, and made it impossibly gold. His pale skin had a golden glow to it. Gilbert could see the muscles on his arms accentuated by the fantastic lighting. Matthew turned away to keep walking and the sun was covered by the clouds.

Gilbert was blushing madly; the kid was insanely good looking he realized. He leaned over to Alfred and said, "Hey, you know, your brother is really hot."

Of course, the protective older brother responded by decking him in the side.

If there was anything Gilbert knew for sure at that moment, it was that next year was going to be great with the kid attending school with him.

He couldn't wait to drag him into his antics. He hoped Matthew could survive it.

* * *

 **This is kind of a long chapter, but I owe you guys since I'm kind of late. Actually, I'm thinking of extending the time between updates. So it'll probably be three weeks in between updates now sorry! I just have a lot of school work and adding this on is kinda taking its toll! The next few months is gonna be crazy since I have AP testing, SBAA testing and I'll have finals soon enough.**

 **Since I've finished with the prologue, I have to actually start coming up with an plot for the story when they're in college so I might take an extra week or two before the next update to plan. I don't want to half ass this and just write without following a plot, it's unfair to you guys. I have a lot in store for this fic.**

 **I'm also thinking of writing another PruCan fic (probably a fantasy one! I love fantasy and magic and stuff!)**

 **The coffee shop is based on a real place near UW called Cafe Allegro. It has the best chai tea latte I've ever had in my life.**

 **Gilen is 2p! Prussia and Dmitri is 2p! Russia. Also, right now, Alfred is a sophomore, Gilbert is a freshman and Matthew is a high school, but when the story actually takes place when they're all in college, Al will be a junior, Gilbert will be a sophomore and Matthew will be a freshman.**

 **Oh yeah just a reminder, I put up the outfits the characters are wearing on the tumblr blog for this story so check it out! If you want a character to wear a certain outfit, submit something and if I like it I'll make it happen!**

 **Translations:**

 _ **French:**_

 _Désolé_ : Sorry

 _Non:_ no

 **THANKS FOR READING PLEASE R &R**


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